


The Eye of An Explorer

by minteafresha



Category: Batman (Comics), The Batman (Cartoon)
Genre: M/M, The Fountain (personal universe), nymcullo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-10
Updated: 2018-06-10
Packaged: 2019-05-20 15:26:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14897135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/minteafresha/pseuds/minteafresha
Summary: My story for Riddlebird Week Day 1: First Impression. Nyman owns an antique store and McCullough first meets him there.





	The Eye of An Explorer

**Author's Note:**

> This is meant to have three parts, so you can expect two more chapters: a date 8 months later, and the wedding.

Oswald did not usually go down this street, with the dilapidated buildings and small business owners. They did not seem to be worth his mother’s time, so she never took him there. So he never went. 

But going down it one day to get around a traffic jam, he noticed a vintage clothing store, a music store, and an Ethiopian restaurant. It would be worth a look around. He was in the mood to try new things; now that he was in charge of his mother’s mob, Oswald felt the need to explore the city fully now that he practically owned it.

He returned two days later, exiting his car at the end of the street. His driver left and Oswald was alone. He started hobbling past the trees, which were breaking through the pavement.

The nearest store was the antique shop, Neat Antiques. Very nice sign typography. In the window was a glass and metal table, musical porcelain swans, two vases with flowers, and a pointillist painting of a city at sunset, all kept safe from the sun by drapery. Oswald entered, and the bell sounded. The man behind the counter came alive and adjusted himself from his leaning back position to sit properly. A phonograph near him was playing Charlie Parker.

The shopkeeper said, “Welcome to Neat Antiques. Ask me before you move anything.”

Oswald removed his hat. “Good morning… Will do, sir.”

The antique shop was neatly kept and divided in two: an area for smaller items on shelves, and the other for large items and furniture. There were cabinets, a grandfather clock nearly twice Oswald’s height, many paintings, a telephone from the 1880’s, a small rack of clothes, a few boxes of vinyl records, radios, glassware, ceramics, jewelry, and many other things. The store was warm and smelled as antiques usually do, but the air was clear and not dusty. The shopkeeper must keep a tight ship here.

Oswald took his eyes off the doll he was admiring to face the shopkeeper. “Is it just you working here, uh… your name?”

“My name is Edward,” the shopkeeper said. “It is just me, but I am hiring.” Edward descended from his chair and approached Oswald to hear him better. “Who are you?”

“Oswald McCullough,” Oswald said. “Must get awful lonely in here, then.”

Edward lifted his shoulders as if to almost laugh. Cheerfully, he said, “Oh no, not a single boring moment in here. The objects speak stories, it is very nice to be reminded of stories to inspire me with my own writing, and besides that some teenagers come here and play pool every Thursday, so they will be here this afternoon, and I sometimes tell them they should work for me, but they don’t want to work. Can’t blame them. What child would want to work? Even then-”

“Hold on, pardon me for interrupting (from Edward: “Ah it’s alright, I sometimes-”), you said everything here has a story.” Oswald was sorry to cut the rambling short, but was afraid he would forget to ask his question while getting lost in this stranger’s mind.

Edward nodded. “That’s correct, and it’s my mission to keep track of it all. Well, maybe I will not learn the future of something after it is sold, but that’s how it is. The world is a mystery!”

“I caught my eye on this spyglass, I recognize my family crest on it. What’s its story?”

Edward smiled, the kind of smile someone makes when they are about to reveal a long-planned surprise for you. Usually pleasant, as I hope that is the kind of surprise people have in store for you. Edward stepped closer to the vertical display case and put his fingers to the glass where the spyglass sat on its felt seat. Edward turned to Oswald and said, “When you said McCullough, I knew I had to tell you about this spyglass. Everyone knows the McCulloughs are one of the elite families of Gotham. Wealth from trade with Europe. Your great great great grandfather used this spyglass and fought pirates and made his fortune by keeping the harbor and the Atlantic routes safe, and by trade as well of course.” Edward took out a ring of keys, felt the teeth of the keys, picked a key, and opened the door of the case to take the spyglass out. He hefted the spyglass in his hands, with the key ring jingling on his wrist. 

Edward continued explaining, tracing the scratches and cracks on the metal and leather. “Eavan McCullough lost this spyglass to the hands of a competing merchant, who sent someone to sneak aboard Eavan’s ship for personal valuables and documents. The spyglass was kept by the merchant and given to the next two owners of the merchant’s ship over the years. Eventually a navy man bought it. The navy man gave it to his wife, who gave it to her son, who gave it to his fisher friend, who gave it to a traveler, who died while climbing in the Appalachians in 1983, and the spyglass was taken by the traveler’s friend, and that friend gave it to me because she knows I like collecting and she wanted to give it a good home.”

There was a short silence, as Oswald was not sure if Edward was finished. Oswald found he was staring with his mouth agape at the spyglass. He looked at Edward and asked, “How did you figure that all out?”

Edward rolled his shoulders smugly. “Well, to put it briefly, I just kept asking until I reached the beginning. Neither the merchant thief’s or your ancestor’s ships exist anymore, but there are records and deeds which gave me dates. I could go on.”

“Amazing! And now, by chance of fate, I am here to reclaim it.” Oswald reached his hands out to take the spyglass. Edward did not move to offer it. Oswald said, “I’d like to hold it. And purchase it.”

“Oh, of course, be careful.” Edward gently handed the spyglass over. He locked the case and pocketed his keys, and then moved to the cashier counter again. “So what brings you here? This street obviously isn’t the most glamorous and is never crowded with customers.”

Oswald let his eyes play along the wall behind Edward. Tacky mounted swordfish, peeling paint, a tapestry, a picture of an African American woman who he assumed was Edward’s mother. It struck Oswald that although Edward was blind, he still wanted to share his story with other people who could see it. Oswald registered Edward’s question after a few moments. “Oh. Well, I just got curious. I can’t leave any inch of this city unexplored, there is so much I have to know.”

“I agree. Regardless of where you come from.” The cash register pinged and Edward fished out the receipt. Oswald took it and stuffed it in his pocket. Edward said, “Let me get the box for this, wait a minute.” Edward slipped through a door behind him and returned quickly with a paper box lined with stuffing. Edward put the spyglass in the box deftly and pushed it toward Oswald. “There you are! All yours.”

Oswald had expected a plastic hinged case at least. He then thought it would be fine as long as he didn’t drop it. “Thank you, Edward.” He did not leave. He didn’t want to. Oswald  tapped his fingers on the counter with the other arm cradling the box. Edward waited…

Finally, Oswald said, “I think I’ll stick around here for a little longer.”

Edward exhaled and said, “That’s just fine. You may have a seat, if you would like.”

Oswald found the nearest chair, a wooden chair with a cushion, and held his coat securely around him as he sat. He looked up at Edward from where he was. The record kept on playing.

Edward shifted to gesture toward the phonograph. “Would you like to listen to something else, Oswald?”

“No this is fine,” Oswald said. “It’s funny, his name is Bird. Do you know what the other McCulloughs call me?”

Edward returned to his original relaxed lean and folded his hands. “... Egret.”

“Egret? Hahahaha!” Oswald covered his mouth, still smiling.

Edward said, “Come on, I like the name.”

“You’ve noticed the way I walk, I’m sure.”

“Hmmm…” Edward tilted his head. “You are Penguin… or Duck. But I would say the name of an emperor suits you better.”

Oswald smiled and leaned back. “Yes, they call me Penguin. I like it.”

“I agree.” Edward was loving Oswald’s questions and was very glad he stayed to talk.

Oswald said, “Hey, I have another thing I’m wondering about… that picture behind you of the woman. I recognize that hotel. It’s on 6th Avenue. Is that your mother?”

Edward nodded. “The Gilded Lily. Yes, that is my mother. She’s very important to me.”

“Tell me about her.” Oswald said, ready to hear another good story.

“Well, I’m glad you are sitting for this. You are welcome to interject.” Edward talked about his mother, Dolly Williams, a maid at the hotel for the rest of her life after having her children. Before, she worked as a waitress and did not like her boss, and found a better life with her colleagues at the hotel. She collected a lot of books and had built a large library, and her children kept filling it after she was gone.

“When did she die?” Oswald said softly.

“Um, seven years ago. I was eighteen.”

“I’m sorry.” Oswald bowed his head and wrung his hands. He couldn’t imagine what his life would be like without his own mother.

Edward rubbed his nose and sniffed. “Everything is okay. Most of the money she saved up went toward this shop. So I have her picture here to honor her.”

Oswald look up and half-smiled. “Well I’m glad I know who to thank for today. Meeting you was wonderful.”

“Likewise,” Edward said. The record finished and Edward moved to change it to another jazz player. “Well it should be my lunch break soon.”

Oswald perked up. “Would you like to go with me to the place across the street? I’ll pay.”

Edward was surprised. “W-well-!”

Oswald shrank and said, “Oh, nevermind.”

Edward fluttered his hands. “I was going to say yes! I would love to!”

Oswald stood up and wished he could show Edward he was smiling. “I’m glad!”

Soon, it was time to go across the street and Edward got to talk more about his writing (often brain-teasers for the paper and history books) and how he finds the time to travel to ask people questions about the antiques. Oswald got to talk more about birds, swimming, music, his inventions, and who are the best people he had interacted with in terms of loans and investments. 

Meetings turned into dates. Edward confessed to his illegal artifact sales and so Oswald shared the details of his failing criminal empire. With each other, their businesses became stronger. Days go by and there are no secrets between this inseparable pair, only secrets beyond them they have yet to discover...


End file.
